


Fan the Moonbeams

by Hrafnsvaengr



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Deaf Clint Barton, It's tooth-rotting fluff, M/M, That's all there is, no powers au, unadulterated fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5698282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hrafnsvaengr/pseuds/Hrafnsvaengr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint isn't positive, but he's pretty sure this isn't the dog toys he was trying to order....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fan the Moonbeams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AvaKelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaKelly/gifts).



> This is all AvaKelly's fault. Blame them. <3 It's also unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes are because I'm an idiot.

“Hey, Lucky! I think I finally figured out how this stupid computer works!” Ordinarily, Clint would have been more careful about yelling in an apartment building. But this building? He owned it. Let them complain to the super.

He looked around, trying to spot the fluffy brown head of his dog, “Lucky, where are you? You need to help me pick out some new toys for you!”

It was then that Clint felt a heavy head set itself delicately down on his knees. “Oh, there you are. What’ve I told you about sneaking up on me when my ears aren't in?”

Ungracefully, he slid to the floor next to Lucky, and pulled the small laptop down to rest on his lap where the dog could see it too.

“So, do you like the squeaky hydrant or this big fluffy rope thing?”

Lucky barked happily in reply.

“Yeah, you're right. Both. Both is good.”

***

Twenty minutes later, they'd picked out a dozen new toys, a new brush that looked like a minuscule vacuum cleaner that sucked the hair off your dog, and a 50 kilo bag of food. He wasn't exactly sure how much a kilo was, but it'd probably be enough to last a while.

He'd fought for longer than he’d ever admit to trying to get the thing to take his stupid credit card number, but in the end, he'd managed to get them ordered…maybe…he wasn't entirely sure.

A few seconds later, a large pop-up appeared. “1 unread email”

“I think your toys just got confirmed, Pizzahead!” Lucky’s ears turned excitedly as Clint scritched in the thick ruff of fur around the dog's neck. With his free hand, he clicked the pop-up and read the email.

_ Dear Sir or Madam, _

_ Your order has been received. Your appointment is scheduled for 22.30 and will require payment upon arrival. _

_ Thank you for your custom. _

Appointment? Maybe they were foreign or something and meant ‘delivery’. That would explain the date too. They probably meant 22-30 which was…maybe next week? He wasn't sure. Oh well.

Clint grinned and looked to Lucky. “There we go! And after our walk, you know what time it is?” Lucky's mouth opened in a loud bark. “That's right! Time to order pizza!”

***

After taking Lucky for a long walk, he had sat down on his ugly couch with Lucky and decided what pizzas to order. It was a very important decision, after all. The place he ordered from had a perpetual special: Buy five pizzas, get the sixth half off. He always took advantage. After all, if he could buy food for four or five days at one swoop then have it delivered to the door, hell yeah he was going to do that.

They finally settled on toppings and texted in their order. There were some advantages to knowing the owner of your pizza place, and texting your order instead of having to find his ears and call? Definitely a big one.

Clint turned on some movie or other on Netflix. He was pretty sure the TV was on mute... _ not that the super would care, _ he thought with a wicked grin. The movie wasn’t bad. Some stupid thing about superheros and a Norse god coming to take over the world. Not bad, but not great. But it made for good background to him taking a nap.

***

He woke up some time later with Lucky frantically headbutting Clint’s hand. See? Who needed a doorbell or fire alarm? Just get a dog! He looked around the apartment and couldn’t see the fire alarm high on his wall flashing. At least he wasn’t going to have to deal with a fire tonight. He looked at the clock on the wall, “It’s not late enough for the pizzas to be here…. Martinelli’s is always slow…”

With a shrug, Clint went to the door, stopping just before it and looking at Lucky, “Oh I know what it is! It must be the toys I ordered for you! They’re early...maybe they have those drones or something.”

He opened the door. It...was not a parcel being delivered. Nor was it pizza.

“I hear there’s been a disturbance?” mouthed the police officer--shit, still not wearing his ears. “Can I come in?”

Clint nodded, “Of course, officer. Let me just put on my ears so I can hear you,” he called as he ran to his bedroom and started throwing things on the floor while he looked for the purple hearing aids.

He returned after a series of loud crashing sounds and a few louder swears, finally wearing his ears. “Sorry about that, what seems to be…” he stopped mid-sentence as he turned the corner back into the main room. The officer was knelt down on the floor, playing with Lucky as though they'd been friends for years. “Erm...officer? “

The policeman stood, brushing off his uniform ineffectively to unstick the dog fur clinging to it. “Yes, of course.” The man coughed, clearing his throat. “I've received some complaints about you, Mr Barton.”

Clint frowned as the cop walked slowly forward. Was he…stalking him? It sure reminded him of when Lucky was trying to sneak up on a rabbit in the park. “Call me Clint. Mr Barton was my father.”

The officer stopped, frowned, then shrugged and continued his measured steps. “Well then, Clint,” he grinned as he stopped a pace in front of Clint, “I hear you've been…very bad indeed. One might say, you've been a naughty boy, Clint.”

“Uhhhh… What?”

“You know what we do with bad boys, Clint?”

Clint frowned, taking a step back, tripping on Lucky as he did so. Fucking dog, always doing that. He looked up at the officer from the floor where he'd landed on his ass, “Uhhh…. You put them in jail?” 

The officer stepped up to him and stood looming above, “That's right, Mr...erm…Clint. We punish them,” the officer took out a pair of handcuffs and dangled them over Clint. “So, Clint. How about it? Have you been a bad, bad boy?”

“No? What… What are you…” it was at that moment that he noticed the officer's nametag. Barnes. “Wait a minute… You're that guy from 6D, aren't you? Always out late but never noisy? You helped out Ms Perkins carry her laundry down last week.”

“What? No, my name is Officer Barnes and I'm here to punish you,” he knelt down beside Clint, his voice low and sultry, “Clint Barton.”

Clint squinted at him nodding after a moment, “You totally are. You're the guy from 6D. You told me to call you Bucky.”

Bucky ignored him, musing aloud, “It sure is hot in here, Clint,” his hand went to his collar and he grinned, “I better make us a bit more…comfortable,” he punctuated his sentence by pulling sharply on his collar, the top of his uniform coming off as buttons hidden in the back popped open. He tossed the shirt over his shoulder and grinned. “So, are you ready, you naughty boy, Clint?”

Clint scrambled to his feet, “What the fuck, Barnes? Are you…stripping?!”

Bucky stood, the act completely wiped from his demeanor, “Well, shit. There goes my rent money for the week.”


End file.
